


An Absence in the Ice Box

by dget



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Family, Fluff, Post Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 00:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dget/pseuds/dget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aang notices that Katara has been acting strangely - perhaps more strangely than the average pregnant woman. A fluffy oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Absence in the Ice Box

“Aang.”  
  
“Katara?”  
  
“I’m pregnant.”  
  
**  
  
It’s two nights before the full moon, and Aang awakens to a distinct lack of Katara. Judging by the smooth sheets, she hasn’t even come to bed yet, though his inner flame informs him that it’s not long until sunrise. Concerned, he floats to his feet, grabs his staff, and heads out of their room and down the hall. Perhaps Katara is in the kitchen; she’s been having cravings for strange foods at odd times. But no, when he reaches the kitchen, not a single lamp is lit, and the room’s air currents are undisturbed by any breathing body. The bath, then, maybe? Perhaps her back was aching and she simply needed to sit in some hot water. But no, the bath too is empty. Aang is disinclined to think that she would be upstairs, where there is nothing but other sleeping acolytes; she might have gone up if there was someone ill, who needed healing, but she would have woken her husband to tell him if that was the case. No, she’s gone for something personal, something not worth disturbing Aang over.  
  
Or – but no. Aang won’t let himself think that, not yet, not when his city has at last been so peaceful for the past few moons.  
  
All the same, Aang climbs up to the second floor, looking for an open doorway or a lighted lamp. Nothing. He swallows down the slight panic that is rolling in the back of his throat. She’s nearby, somewhere, certainly, he thinks as he descends halfway down the flight of stairs. In a quick second, he’s unlatched the window over the landing; he dives out, snapping his glider open before he breaks an arm in the melon patch, and finds a current to ride lazily upwards while he observes the moonlit island below.  
  
It takes him a moment, but he soon spots a smudge on the island’s western shore that is probably Katara-sized and is most definitely blue. Sighing in relief, he plummets down towards it. Yes, it is indeed Katara, sitting cross-legged on the rocky beach. He lands behind her silently, but she feels the breeze and turns around, a pretty smile on her lips.  
  
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks carefully.  
  
“Mmm,” she assents, turning back to face the water. “Too close to the full moon.”  
  
“So you came out here,” he says. “To… meditate?” For that is indeed what she seems to be doing.  
  
“Yes. Care to join me?”  
  
There’s no way he would be able to return to their bed and fall asleep knowing that his wife was sitting out in the cold alone, so he simply twirls his glider shut and folds himself down next to her, pressing his fists together. The two of them breathe in sync with the soft roll of the waves against the shore.  
  
It isn’t until the sun’s rays break over the horizon that he opens his eyes and looks over to see Katara watching him, affection clear on her face. He smiles back, breaking his pose, and shifts to face her. They spend a quiet moment observing each other.  
  
Aang is the one to break the silence. “So, why were you meditating? It’s not really something you normally do.” Katara’s face shutters, and he finds himself quickly backtracking. “I mean, the water tribes don’t practice meditation, and I’ve never really seen you do this before; usually when you can’t sleep you just waterbend…” he trails off.  
  
“Well,” Katara says, carefully, eyes still guarded. “Maybe I thought it was time to try something new. Maybe you’ve been a good influence on me.” She smiles, then, and Aang is slightly relieved. “Besides, the only reason the water tribes don’t meditate is because it’s sort of an impractical thing to spend time on when you’ve got so much you need to be doing just to stay alive. And it’s not exactly like that here, so. Why not meditate?” She stands and offers a hand to him, and the subject is clearly closed. “Feel like heading back?”  
  
Aang knows the truth in her words, but can’t help feeling as though he is missing something. Nevertheless, he accepts her hand and floats to his feet. Katara’s near-constant nausea nowadays makes flying home impractical, so they walk back together, Aang’s staff tapping on the ground.  
  
**  
  
It’s a few days later, and Katara is making a late breakfast in the kitchens. She’s been out meditating on the beach almost every night since Aang first caught her. She doesn’t always stay the whole night, but she’s been waking up later nevertheless. Aang is sitting with her, watching her cook, though he ate his own breakfast shortly after sunrise. He hasn’t been accompanying her on her late-night excursions – she seems to want to be alone in those late hours, and Aang can respect that. He knows that his wife will ask him if she desires company, and he makes himself trust that a master waterbender is safe enough on land surrounded by water.  
  
He watches Katara throwing things into a skillet, occasionally darting about the kitchen to grab other ingredients she needs. It isn’t until he sees her reach into the ice box – a wedding gift from Sokka, the product of an inventor with a sister who can produce ice almost limitlessly – that he realizes.  
  
“Katara,” he observes, idly. “There hasn’t been meat in the ice box for ages.”  
  
Katara freezes for a moment, arm halfway in the contraption, and then abruptly returns to life, moving at a nervous-fast speed. “No, there hasn’t,” she agrees, tone casual, as she quickly removes her arm and shuts the door, striding away. She adds a few things to the dish and stirs vigorously. “Although we do live on an island of vegetarian air acolytes – or were you forgetting?” She grins up at him, smile too large for such a small joke.  
  
“We-ell,” he says, slowly, “usually you keep some around for your own meals, every now and then.”  
  
She shrugs, not making eye contact. “It’s a lot of effort to make a special trip into the city just to pick up some meat. Not worth it, half the time. Besides, all this time living with you has really opened my eyes to the flexibility of vegetarian cuisine!”  
  
Aang is about to protest, but then she is spooning out two bowls, and plops one down in front of him. “Here you go. You probably haven’t eaten since sunrise, have you? My breakfast, your lunch,” she says, blue eyes full of affection, and Aang chooses to just shut up and eat, enjoying the feeling of his wife by his side and the warm noon breeze floating through the open windows.  
  
**  
  
After that, Aang starts noticing strange, small things.  
  
Katara – whose steps should be getting heavier as their child grows – has been treading lightly upon the ground, stepping deliberately and quietly. When he uses his earth vision, he hardly recognizes her.  
  
He’s found her twice now sitting in the top room of the temple’s tower, windows thrown wide, simply staring out into the blue sky.  
  
And, it occurs to him, his wife – his lovely, hot-headed, brazen wife – hasn’t lost her temper or spoken ill of a single soul in the past few moons. She has, in fact, been very calm and peaceful, and while Aang has always known that motherhood would suit Katara well, he doubts that it alone is enough to overcome the crankiness that pregnant women are said to exhibit on occasion.  
  
It isn’t until he catches her standing in the back of one of the children’s airbending form lessons, observing quietly and intently, that he finally pieces it together. She remains after the lesson concludes, saying hello to the children, praising their work, allowing them to rub her swollen belly. After the last of them has scampered off and Aang has finished putting away the training staffs, he walks over to her.  
  
She greets him with a kiss. “Hello.”  
  
“Hello,” he smiles against her mouth before drawing back. “Any particular reason you dropped in on the lesson today?”  
  
She shrugs. “I felt like visiting you? Wanted to see how it’s going? Find you interacting with children to be extra attractive?”  
  
He grins at that, but it quickly fades. “Katara… are you sure it’s not because you’re somehow trying to ensure that our child is born an airbender?”  
  
Caught, she deflates. “I didn’t think you would approve,” she mutters to the ground.  
  
He sighs, frustrated. “Katara…”  
  
“I know. It’s silly, anyways. Bending is about spirituality and probably nothing I do during pregnancy is going to affect what kind of bender our child turns out to be, or if she’s a bender at all.”  
  
Aang is momentarily distracted at that. “She?”  
  
Katara smiles and nods, eyes tight. “I can feel it.”  
  
Aang grins, and ghosts his hands over his wife’s belly. “Our daughter…” he breathes, as his smile slowly fades. Then he takes a deep breath, and looks intently into Katara’s eyes. “Our daughter will be loved no matter what kind of bender she is or isn’t. You have to know that.” He looks down to the swell in between them. “I love her already, and I know nothing about her,” he says softly.  
  
He looks up to meet Katara’s eyes again, and finds to his surprise that there are tears gathering in them. “I know, Aang. I do too. It’s just - there’s so much pressure to have an airbending child. You know what people are saying. It’s my duty to give you an airbender – I have to try everything I can, even if it’s stupid. Nobody wants the cycle to die out. And…” she hiccups a little. “I know it would make you so happy to not be the last airbender. I just don’t want you to be alone.”  
  
Aang folds her into his arms. “I am happy. And I’m not alone,” he murmurs. “I have you two.”  
  
Katara laughs shakily. “Not what I meant,” she says into his shoulder.  
  
“I know,” he replies. “But, listen” – he pulls back to look into her eyes – “It’s not your duty to do anything but be the loving mother I know you’ll be. I trust that the spirits will give us an airbending child if and when the time is right, and not a moment sooner.”  
  
She sniffles. “So, what you’re saying is, I could have been eating meat this whole time.”  
  
It’s a weak joke, but he laughs anyways, too loudly. After a moment, she joins in. When the laughter dies down, they stand there a long time, simply holding each other, Katara’s belly pressed between.  
  
**  
  
After Kya is born, Katara can’t go back to eating meat, even when she tries. Too long without it and even a Water Tribe woman is repulsed by consuming roasted flesh.  
  
**  
  
Fourteen years later, Kya walks away from one of her mother’s waterbending lessons for the first time. “I don’t want to learn to fight! How many times do I have to tell you?” she shouts.  
  
“You’re squandering your talent!” her mother shouts back. “And you need to know how to protect yourself! I didn’t become the first combat-trained female in the North Pole so my daughter could become a _healer!_ ”  
  
“My waterbending was given to me by the spirits so I could _help_ people! And in case you haven’t noticed, mother, the war is _over!_ ” she bites, storming away, the set of her lips very similar to a certain teenaged avatar’s.  
  
It’s almost a full moon before the two waterbenders come to an understanding. Kya must master enough combat techniques to be sufficiently able to defend herself, and afterwards, in return, Katara will travel with Kya to the North Pole so that the two of them may study under the healing masters together.  
  
After the arrangement has been agreed upon and Kya has huffily walked out of the room, Katara wearily turns to her husband. “How on earth,” she moans, slumping into his shoulder, “did I get an air nomad disguised as a waterbender for a daughter?”  
  
Aang just smirks at her. “I’m recalling a certain stretch of time about, oh, nine moons long? Fourteen years ago?” Katara makes a vaguely threatening face at him. “Don’t worry, though,” Aang quickly adds, pointing out the window to where Tenzin and Bumi are playing. Bumi has clearly stolen Tenzin’s favorite carved air bison, and little Tenzin is clearly more than three-quarters of the way through guilting his older brother into giving it back. “It looks like our youngest definitely has your temperament.”  
  
Katara’s look has become near-murderous, but Aang doesn’t worry, because just then Tenzin sneezes – and, unexpectedly, flies up onto the roof.  
  
Oh, yes. The spirits definitely have a sense of humor.

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on the observation that Tenzin has a quick temper, and that Kya is, according to Bryan, a healer and a bit of a hippie. Also based on my own conclusion that a pregnant Katara would probably be feeling LOADS of pressure to have an airbending child and ensure that the avatar cycle will not be broken, and might deal with that pressure in some strange ways.
> 
> (First A:TLA fic on AO3 - I know the fandom here isn't as large but I was particularly proud of this piece and wanted to copy it over from ff.net.)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews and criticisms welcome!


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